


Suburban War

by Webtrinsic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: ? - Freeform, Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Angst, Based on Coraline, Coraline AU, Flying, Goddess Ahsoka Tano, Hurt Ahsoka Tano, Hurt Anakin Skywalker, Inspired by Coraline, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Planet Mortis (Star Wars), Post-Mortis Arc (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), Protective Anakin Skywalker, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29962995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: After a successful mission, Ahsoka is gifted with a doll in her likeness. The problem being she doesn't know who gave it to her.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	Suburban War

**Author's Note:**

> here's the coraline au :) i have some feeling some of y'all won't like the ending but i like it so thats how its gonna be lol. this longer than i imagined it'd be too so i hope y'all like that- also my mom and i were in the car and i was explaining that ahsoka is anakin's padawans point and we really thought about damn anakin is still basically a kid too like damn

It isn’t unusual or uncommon for the people they save to give them thanks. Whether that be in the forms of either a feast of hospitality or politely declined gifts since the Jedi were supposed to be selfless. Uncaring and having no reason for worldly possessions.

Ahsoka knows this as she looks down at what she assumes is a gift a particularly shy or selfless being left behind for her. They either wanted to remain anonymous or feared she would decline the gift if they tried to give it to her in person.

Personally the togruta wouldn’t have declined a gift like many other Jedi would have, and Anakin never denies any gifts either so she knows he wouldn’t mind if she kept the tooka doll made in her image with probably the highest quality fabric available to them.

The girl smiles gently at the doll, her fingers running over the white facial markings sewed onto the fabric. Identical to her own to the point she wonders how they managed to be this accurate when she’d spent a good percentage of the trip flipping in the air and engaged in combat.

The craftsmanship was admirable, refined and yet it was still very much a children’s doll and stuck to that aesthetic.

Ahsoka loved it.

She saw a few clones send her endeared looks as she held the doll towards her chest and set off to find her master so they could go off and return to the Resolute, and eventually the temple where she’d likely have to ask Anakin to hold onto the doll for her unless she left it in her cabin on the ship.

The other padawans she boarded with would surely say something against the object and she’d hate for the makers effort to go to waste if they forced her to throw it away. 

She knows she shouldn’t be nervous as she approaches her master’s turned back, but a small part of her, a childish part that was used to being told to grow up rose with a fear that maybe he would take one look and have her return it.

R-2 beeped excitedly at her approach, pulling Anakin from his crouch as he turned to look back at his padawan. His smile turning down with a pinch of confusion at the doll in her arms, it staring at him with a patched smile.

“You ready to go snips...and mini snips?” he adds, something fond sparkling in his eyes at the image of his padawan with something a kid should be holding rather than a weapon. 

Ahsoka let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, feeling the makings of a blush on her cheeks and lekku as the attention turned towards her. Hesitantly, something in her urging she hold onto the configured fabric, even still she offered it to him. She didn’t exactly know where the thing came from, and still Anakin hadn’t said she could keep it even if he had acknowledged she had it.

“We don’t know who left it for me but we’re pretty sure it’s a gift,” he takes the doll into his own hand at this, thumbing over the fabric-inspecting for anything sharp in the fabric or something hidden that may bring her harm.

Once he’d deemed it safe, still the slightest bit skeptical just in case, Anakin handed it back with a wry smile, “You can keep it, but just in case if you suddenly don’t feel well I want you to have it tested and tossed out,” the girl nods, understanding that he may be right about his concern.

For all she knew the thing actually could be laced, but she didn’t feel anything off in the force. In fact, so far the doll’s lifted her spirits more than she thought possible and unearthed a little part of her aching for a childhood she wasn’t aware had been passing her by.

This is forgotten with some effort when he hands the doll back with another endeared smile. Ahsoka shouldn’t find herself this giddy that he was letting her keep a doll, but she was bursting with joy and she knows he can feel it too.

His hand perches between her shoulder blades, right below her back lek, leading her up the ramp. Something in his head tingled as he looked down at the little doll, it’s back head tail smushed against her chest, it’s limbs swaying with each step.

Ahsoka had always been shorter than him, but she seemed impossibly small holding the mini her, so much so it made his chest ache. The words of spectators in the past infiltrating his brain, the peoples insistence that the jedi were wrong, _arrogant,_ for participating in this war.

It’s all those things that lead him to doubt, not that he himself should be at war-he can see himself in no other place, but rather how intelligent the decision was to allow children, younger than himself into battle.

Hell, Ahsoka had been the youngest padawan ever assigned to a master in this war. To him of all people with no experience, and he hadn’t even been in his twenties himself! He doesn’t regret taking in Ahsoka, not that he had a choice, but he does begrudge the fact that she was still a child at war, one who had experienced far too much, even death itself: firsthand.

“Let’s get something from the mess before all the good stuff is taken,” Ahsoka suggests softly, seemingly subdued as if she’d been calmed. He often feels the same way when he plays with his model planes in his room.

There’s a deep regret he’d never found or bought her something similar in the past, but then again Ahsoka didn’t seem to be one for dolls- this case being different of course because hell he didn’t like dolls but he’d have been flattered if someone made one of him for him. Really anyone would be.

His excuse for now would be he didn’t know what he would have gotten her, it wasn’t a lie but it also doesn’t stem the guilt as much as he’d like it to. It’d be a cop out trying to get her something now as well, especially since she was so taken with the little her.

He only hoped there wasn’t anything insidious with the gift. Nothing about it screamed evil, and he could just be paranoid, but there was something about the thing that made him nervous.  Whether it be because he was supposed to be warding her away from material things like a good jedi would, or because it was a blatant reminder that she was a child who didn’t get to be a child, he didn’t know.

But he was grateful, thankful to it and it’s maker too; that it could provide some comfort to her that he hadn't been able to provide, and hadn’t truly realized he probably should have even though most jedi wouldn’t.  He’d always been unconventional. It wasn’t something that often brought him pride, in fact it brought him more of the opposite, but if cari- _ loving _ his padawan made him different, well...he knew she appreciated it and that was all that mattered.

“Sounds good, why don’t you make me a tray and I’ll meet you there? I have to inform the council of this victory,” with a gentle push she’s off, running up ahead when she spots Rex who’d hopefully help her carry Anakin’s tray since her hands were already somewhat full.

* * *

The doll sits upright in Ahsoka’s lap as she eats, several clones give her and little ‘soka nods when they pass by the table. Rex sits across from her, keeping a watchful eye out in case any of his brothers addressed the fact that their commander had a doll in a less than pleasant manner.

He didn’t think any of his men would, but he couldn’t be sure, and it was always best to be prepared. He’d nearly made a face at the chef when he’d suggested a tray for the plush doll but the little one only laughed, hadn’t taken any offence that Rex would have made the clone pay for.

Anakin appeared not long after, the table shaking momentarily as he boisterously planted his weight. Ahsoka fondly rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her drink, before absently leaning towards him as she continued to eat her food.

Anakin lifted a brow towards the captain, asking if there had been any trouble. Having been worried about the scrutiny his padawan may face, especially with how prominently the seemingly misplaced object sat on her lap. 

If they didn’t take her seriously after this, he’d rectify it-but he hoped his battalion was smart enough not to discredit her for a comfort she more than deserved. 

What they are blind to is the dolls' reason for being. A comforting spy, the first gift for her new daughter, a tether, and the match to start the fire that would bring the mother her great flame; her biggest desire.

It hadn’t always been, the Abeloth still had other aspirations which she _would_ get. But since the death of her family, the same family that she should hate for holding her at bay for so long, something in her weary old heart missed them.  And all that was left now was the original stardust and force signature of her daughter. The daughter that did not love her and was stitched to the light, but this girl was nothing like the griffon.

She was better, with both the dark and the light nestled within her chest. Far more deserving of greatness and more than worthy for the balance that belonged to her former husband.

The mother watched through the little dolls eyes at her new daughter, the soon to be keeper of the new Mortis she was scrimping together as the girl ate. This one wouldn’t leave her, she wouldn’t allow it.

The abeloth knew exactly how she’d do it too. The poor girl had never been a child, she could use that to her advantage, and when she immortalized the girl-she’d be sixteen forever with dependence that wouldn't be shaken in the eons to come.

They’d never be alone.

* * *

Padme giggles at the little doll, already thinking about all the little outfits she could have specially made for the tiny ahsoka, and potentially matching ones for the girl herself.

She didn’t think Ahsoka would play into the idea which was upsetting, but it didn’t matter much in the end. It was all wishful thinking. Multiple little outfits would also be too much to hide, and they’d likely only get lost.

The Abeloth watches through the doll with intrigued eyes, brimming with both satisfaction and envy. Ahsoka looked at the woman as if she were her mother, and as enraging as that fact was, it was the perfect kindle for the fire.

The mother pulled at her skin, taking the senator’s likeness with all but her hair and eyes remaining the same. Long silvery locks, and black where they're would be white in most others eyes, her iris’s pinpricks of the same silver reflecting in her hair.

“What a lovely gift,” Padme notes, and Ahsoka calmly agrees, even though something in her knows it's more than that. What, she doesn’t know exactly, but it feels like a lifesaver when it wards off her bad dreams in the dead of night.

* * *

They move out again, Ahsoka snuggled into her bed, the doll tucked against her throat as the Resolute groaned in a way she only heard in the dead of night. But there was something else, something beneath the rumble that had the togruta sitting up from her bed.

A coo. One that sounded a lot like Morai yet with her fine hearing she was able to hear the stronger timber to the warbling vocals. Had something got stuck on board during a stop? Flown in through the cargo hold?

The togruta pulled herself from her bed, not wanting to leave a supposedly helpless animal out in the cold, Ahsoka opens the door with a hiss. Squinting at the low lights in the hall, her eyes widening at the black convor sitting in front of the door, staring up at her with silver eyes and primaries of the same color.

Ahsoka slowly dropped to her knees, extending her hand in the same way she often did to Morai in hopes it’d see her as a perch and hopefully not peck her. The bird tilts its head, neck bobbing back and forth before it began to walk down the hall.

Tired yet not wanting to leave the animal on it’s own, Ahsoka trailed behind the bird, giving it a wide berth-as not to spook it. It’s head turns every now again, checking to make sure she was following, she figured that out by stopping for a second and noticing it stopped as well.

If it wanted her to follow it, she would. For the birds potential well-being, and her own curiosity.

“You know? You look a lot like my friend Morai,” she doesn’t know why she says it, and the bird doesn’t give her much of a reaction, a simple twitch of his tail feathers before it continued on. 

“She’s a convor too,” she continued quietly, absently. A little surprised she hadn’t passed at least one clone. The ship was never fully quiet, even in the night's latest hours. Then again, she wasn’t complaining, another person might scare the convor and then it’d likely panic and create a mess and a racket.  No one wanted that, those sleeping deserved it. She definitely should be in bed as well, but she’s done more with less. Plus how often did birds infiltrate the ship and wake her up in the middle of-alright a few times because of Morai, but this was different.

This one had seemingly searched her out, Morai had normally already been in her room because she’d boarded the ship with her. This was a completely different bird! One not tied to her in some odd way.

The girl's facial marked brow scrunched as they continued deeper into the ship, wondering where of all places it could be taking her, the boiler room? Ahsoka frowned in concern, wondering if it possibly made a nest in the dangerously warm room.

“This isn’t the safest place to make a nest buddy,” she advises but the bird doesn’t seem to care, not as it begins to walk behind what she’s sure is the ship's radiator, Ahsoka figures she’s gone too far not to follow and drops to her knees into a crawl.  Squeezing into the cramped space, only to see a gaping hole big enough for her to slip through, right into the inside of the hull. Ahsoka isn’t sure if the tear possibly jeopardized the ship, she’d likely have to ask, but another part of her honestly was questioning the obscurity of this adventure. Was this a fever dream?

That certainly would explain the little door at the end of the shaft and the absence of the bird who she certainly didn’t see go through the door. That is what makes her stop, backing up only to hit the wall, the hole gone.

A disgruntled noise escapes her lips, the tinges of panic lighting in her chest, and immediately she pushes across her bond with her master, rousing him from his sleep and to her aid.

_ “I’m stuck behind the radiator,”  _

_ “What?”  _ Even his inner voice was confused but there is a deep concern and the frantic tinge brushing off his fatigue and she knows he’s on his way. She doesn’t know how long she waits in the wall, trying to keep her breaths still and even for the time being but eventually his feet thundered in. The place where she was planted against the wall where the hole once was went straight through once again.

“Snips what are you doing crawling behind the radiator?” Anakin’s voice is tinged with concern, and Ahsoka struggles to breathe through her confusions. What was happening?

“There’s a little door back here!” she called, pushing one of her legs back out as he looked around the machine, his eyes widening at the hole in the wall that certainly shouldn’t be there and his padawan carefully trying to crawl back out without bumping into the heat behind her.

“And how did you find that?” his hand only just managed to snag her ankle, redirecting her path when she got too close to the radiator before he managed to get her out from behind the thing.

“I followed a bird that must have gotten stuck or lost inside, but he’s not in here anymore,” the second half comes out warbled, likely knowing how ridiculous it sounded. She didn’t even want to bring up the wall closing behind her.

Anakin sensed his padawan’s unease and was quick to offer a solution, “It probably just flew up the wall, I’ll have the clones check the door and fix the hull,” his hand plants on her shoulder, pulling his padawan closer as her turmoil swirls.  She nods, not fully appeased, her hands scruntching in the need to hold something. That something more often than not her personal tooka doll, but she settled for Anakin’s arm who didn’t comment on the uncharacteristic action.

He pulls her into his side, escorting the padawan back to her room, not leaving until he saw her crawl into bed, the tooka doll tucked into her arms. 

The mother miscalculated. She wouldn’t again. The way would need to be closer, this time the beginnings of the door simmer between the cracks of her cabin. The old door remained, only it’s hinges and outlines, but it would no longer bring the girl to her new world where the change would take place.

Ahsoka misses the new gleam of light hidden behind the edges of her cot as she heads out the next morning to battle, as the door hissed shut and she went on her way her doll slipped and fell under the bed, at the foot of the new little door.

* * *

She can’t see straight by the time she makes it back to her room, they’d been out for force knows how long and her body begged for the thin mattress that didn’t do much for her back but it was hers and that’s all she could ask for.

Her eyes are shut before she’s even fully laid down, her shoes are still on her feet which she figures idly will bite her in the morning but when has that ever mattered? Her comfort wasn’t above her station, wasn’t above the duty she had, if her feet ached in the morning she still had to get up and do her drills.

This time she nearly misses the chirping coo. But alas it does wake her, penetrating deep with echoes that are most unnatural. The itching in her hands is back and when she reaches out to where she’d seen mini ‘soka last, the space is empty and she huffs. Lifting up the slab of her pillow, she is greeted yet again by an empty space.

“Ugh,” she nearly shouts, slipping from her bed when her arm couldn’t get far enough beneath her bunk to feel for the doll. Ahsoka mutters a curse under her breath when the cold floor burns her skin.

The doll is flush against the wall, near a seam that certainly hadn’t been there before. She knows exactly what it is as she sits back from the frame, looking at the screws keeping the cot in place, debating if it was worth the effort to unpack the tools Anakin had gifted and taught her to use.

With a sigh Ahsoka pulled herself to her feet, unclipping the toolbox from it’s hook on the wall before popping open it’s casing and fishing for her wrench. It only takes her a minute to have all four screws rolling in the palm of her hand.  Placing the screws on her table, Ahsoka shuddered as the cot squeaked when she dragged it away from the wall. The twang resided in her montrals seconds after the cot was in place, setting her teeth on edge.

Little ‘soka remained sat there limp, staring up at her from where she was pressed to the little door. The second her hand latched onto the doll, the door’s keyhole and seam glowed in the same electric blue she saw through the port when they went into hyperspace.

The light surely reflected in her now wide open eyes, her knuckles curled towards the metal, the mere brush of skin popping it open. Revealing a cavernous tunnel that she knew, the same tunnel her and Obi-Wan had slept in on Mortis. The cave she saw in her vision.

There should be some hesitation on her part, especially with the seemingly remnants of a planet long gone in the middle of her cabin, but a trance overcomes her. Moves her limbs, absently causes her to tuck the doll under her arm and send herself through the wormhole; the door closing behind her.

* * *

When Ahsoka gets to the end of the cave, she comes out on the other side...back in her cabin. She had to be more tired than she’d thought if her dreams were this vivid. But if this was a dream, why did that clone report at the end of the mission that there had in fact been a door but it hadn’t led to anything? It potentially being a simple maintenance shaft that wasn’t quite up to code.

Unless…that had been a part of her dream as well. Or worse, she’d never actually come back from the mission and this was...somewhere else.

Getting to her feet with aching knees, Ahsoka took a long look at her dirtied palms, praying she couldn’t see through them and that there wasn’t the tinges of blue where there should be orange.  No, there was still the same tangerine skin that she was used too, no transparency to speak of. Moving her hand over her heart, she counts the pounding beats, as assured as she could be that she was alive.

Surely her heart wouldn't beat if she weren’t alive.  Not tired any longer, Ahsoka decided maybe it would be best to let Anakin know about this door as well. It doesn't pass her notice as she goes to fetch him that the hall is the same eerily quiet it had been the last night she’d been on board.

Pressing the chime to Anakin’s room, she is startled at how quickly it opens, then even more so when she cranes up her neck to look at him. The whites of his eyes black with pinprick silver irises.

“Anakin?” She takes a step back, but all he does is laugh and smile.

“Heya Snips, what brings you here?”

“You’re not Anakin,” she accuses adamantly, hands instinctively moving towards her hips for the sabers she’d left with the screws on the nightstand.

“I’m the other Anakin kiddo,” he guffawed fondly, speaking as if that was obvious and normal when it was neither.

“There is no other Anakin,”

“Then how do you explain me snip-“

“You don’t get to call me that!” The girl turns on her heel, running down the hall and the imposter doesn’t give chase, not as she heads back towards her room so she could get her sabers and her comm to tell Rex of the danger.  She doesn’t make it to her room before she runs into the man himself, he too with the same possessed eyes that effectively sent her sprawling back onto the floor.

“Little ‘un,” she’s frozen as he helps her back onto her feet, face contorted in care.

“Rex?” Ahsoka asks fearfully, wondering if this was some repeat of the worms from Genosis that had turned Barriss and the clones against her in the past.

“Yes sir?” He responded rather helpfully, she almost wishes he was sneering, it’d help her sort her thoughts.

“Are you okay?”  The gentle laugh she got in turn was telling. It wasn’t often the man laughed, especially when faced with her concern.  Slowly but surely the girl takes a step back, another startling realization hitting her. The ship wasn’t moving.

“Other Rex?” She assumed, and he leaned forward to show we was listening, “Where are we stopped?”

“Mortis Sir,” he responded easily, happily.

“Mortis is gone,” she insisted slowly, forcefully, really only assuring herself. 

“And reborn again,” 

Ahsoka bites her lip, gut twisting at the implications. What had happened after she’d gone to bed?

“But the father...the kids are gone. That-“ 

The not commander places a hand on her shoulder nearly making her shriek, “Your mother is waiting,” a sentence she’d never thought would be directed at her.

“My mother?” She can’t hide the breathiness and uncertainty in her tone.

“Yes sir,” 

There hadn’t been a mother on Mortis, not one she had the misfortune of meeting. She didn’t have that luxury now, but that didn’t mean she had to meet the woman without her sabers.

“I’ll be a minute,” she let’s not Rex know, figuring he’s been transformed into something of a spy, likely Anakin as well if the eyes meant anything. He doesn’t seem to mind, simply nodding as she ran off back towards her room, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding once she was safely inside.

Gleaming on the table, beside the screws was her configured pieces of shining metal, waiting to be in her hands. She doesn’t make them wait any longer as she grips them tight, preparing herself for war.

Rex isn’t in the hall by the time she returns, this she is grateful for because it gives her some calm besides the quiet that is quickly turning to ire. Her heart beats in a mantra, the pressure tight as she passes through the many halls and rooms, all the way up until she is in the hanger ready to dismount.

Mortis is much of the same, bright in the day, and the flora and fauna abundant. She wonders briefly if she should have asked the other Anakin to accompany her, but she was already out of her depth, she didn’t want to be outnumbered if things didn’t go well.

Ahsoka wishes Morai was here, the convor would be a welcome yet fitting addition to the peculiarity of her situation.

She’s not a second down the ramp before she’s being pulled into a familiar hug, one that screams of a maternity she’d only been shown by one person: Senator Amidala. How did she take Padme too?

The togruta tactfully pulls herself away, not wanting to dwell on how admittedly nice it was to be hugged, and looks upon the morphed visage of Anakin’s not so secret crushes face. Her eyes were the same as the others, but her normally rich hair was the color of fastened jewelry. It wasn’t done up ornately either, it was long and pooling, almost stylishly unkempt but not off putting.

Mother doesn’t seem upset at her for pulling away, a patient and considerate smile still lighting her face, awe in her eyes almost as if she was astounded to see her. It offsets the togruta, the fondness.

“Welcome home Ahsoka,” Not Padme greets, and confusion barrels through Ahsoka hard enough to bruise. Mortis had never been her home, at best it had been the place of her death-nothing more, not even anything less.

“This isn’t home…” the girl informs tentatively, although no other place comes to mind. Not even the temple, at best she saw faces, three of them here now with skewed eyes and lustrous hair that seemed to hold starlight itself.

The mother’s head tilts, a soft huffing laugh escaping as if her denial was humorous. Ahsoka’s body stiffens as her hand comes forward, cupping her cheek, running down to gently hold her chin with a firmness that didn’t hurt but wouldn’t let her move either.

“I know it doesn’t feel like it yet, but you’ll see dear. Now why don’t you head back onto the Resolute and get your doll, then head back over for supper,” her hand travels to her left lekku, giving a pet before her waving as if shooing her off.

“How do you know about the doll?” Her voice is meek, but Ahsoka feels her body moving to comply with the request, self-preservation kicking in, but she has to ask.

“Because it was the first of many gifts you will receive from me my dear,” 

Ahsoka doesn’t know why she’s climbing back on board, or if she’s in shock because it certainly seems that way as she passes through the empty halls, not Anakin waiting by her door.

He smiles and she ignores him as she enters, the doll heavy in her hands as she begins to head back, Anakin in tow: “So what do you want for dinner snips? I’m starving,” absently she nods, actually putting her mind to work to answer, knowing she needed to do something to bring her back to certainty.

She can’t settle on anything in particular, but after all the ration bars she was forced to endure, something of actual sustenance sounded appealing. Something her teeth could tear into, and maybe something naturally sweet to follow. She could dream of cakes and desserts later, but for now actual fruit would quell her hunger.

“Meat, something with skin too,” she replied absently, mind drawing back to nourishment, a vegetable would help. If she had to eat, she only hoped it was something not grainy and bland.  If these not-her-family were providing her food, she couldn’t be picky. Not that she ever could. She might complain but it didn’t mean she wasn’t grateful so long as her stomach was full.

Anakin nodded in turn, agreeing, his stomach rumbling loudly enough she nearly laughed. His embarrassed and bashful expression is ruined by his eyes, effectively stifling Ahsoka’s momentary lapse in amusement.  They continue their walk in silence, other Anakin either taking her lead or already embarrassed by his stomach. Whichever it is, she doesn’t care. 

Rex at some point joins their possy, worry twirling in the togruta’s gut. Knowing she is ultimately outnumbered whilst unaware if her brothers were possessed or simply shifters or illusions of some kind.  When she steps off the ramp, body vibrating with anxiety, she realizes she doesn’t know where not Padme wanted her to meet her.

Likely the black and blue castle in the distance, seemingly pulling her in with the wind.

The togruta looks over her shoulder, seeking confirmation from either of the two men. They don’t stop their stride, continuing on, other Anakin’s hand finding her shoulder: “C’mon snips, thought you were hungry?”

“You more so than me,” she replies measurably, playing her part and keeping in step, never loosening under his hold.  He nearly snorts, chest rumbling with laughter as they push on. Her head turned back towards the castle, barely missing the other structure in the distance that hadn’t been there before and had no business being there at all.

The temple. 

“Three wonders, just for you,” Rex advised when her shock and confusion sat free on her face.

The castle, the temple, and the Resolute.

“Why?”

His gaze softens, as if the answer was obvious, “Because your mother loves you,”

“I didn’t know I had a mother,”

“Where else would you have come from snips?” Anakin laughs over his shoulder. Ahsoka doesn’t have it in her to begin picking apart that statement.  Her stomach growls, and Ahsoka at least knows she’ll get something good out of this as she tries to figure out her situation.

* * *

It’s a feast like she’s never seen, treats a plenty. Pastries and the most delectable meats positioned across from another. There isn’t even the barest hint of bruise on the fruit and there is no vegetation not the uppermost standard of green.

Ahsoka practically salvates at the sight of it, although she doesn’t eat until she sees the others do the same, not wanting to get poisoned even though there technically still was a chance the meal had been laced.  She intends to eat slowly, but the minute her teeth snag on the skin of a deep fried Nuna leg, she digs in. 

The best excuse she has is that she’ll need her strength. Not padme-the mother giggles at her end of the table, pleased with her enthusiasm.

The doll has its own chair.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, I prepared it all just for you,” The mother insists, practically preening.

“Thank you. Now if it’s not too much to ask...why didn’t I meet you the last time I was on Mortis?”

The woman’s smile falters if only for a second, her explanation soft and filled with pain, “They locked me away since they didn’t believe I could care for them any longer,”

“I’m sorry,” Ahsoka starts, feeling more unsure as her special gift in the force, her ability to make out one's emotions on a dime sprang to life filling her with sadness as she somehow managed to make out the hurt in those obsidian eyes.

“It's not your fault my dear, don’t trouble yourself with my pain. We’re together now,”

“That’s what I don’t understand, why me?” setting down her utensils, her appetite lost, the girl tilted her head.

“I wasn’t particularly close with my daughter or son, really they resented me because I spent just about all my time breaking up their fights. She was also always more partial to her father. Now that she’s gone, what little is left of her-of my family lives in you. This makes you the next in line to be the keeper of Mortis, the new daughter. _My_ new daughter,”

Ahsoka’s as touched as she is disturbed, this whole thing was just as much an illusion for herself as it was for the imposter before her.

“That’s very...kind of you but I’m afraid I have responsibilities back on Coruscant and an obligation to the people affected by this war to keep fighting. What I’m saying is, I can’t stay,”

Suddenly Ahsoka can’t pick up on anything at all, the woman puts back on her most sincere smile: “ That’s very big of you. I’m proud. But there’s no need to put this meal to waste,” and just like that the woman is cutting into her food, although Ahsoka never sees her raise it to her lips. Maybe the gods didn’t need to eat. Practical immortality was funny like that.

Ahsoka fell to that, the woman did have a point. The Resolute was still there, within reach, meaning she could crawl back through the little door once the meal was done. The woman was lonely, and every once in a while there was a tinge of loneliness within her as well, Ahsoka could give her this-the both of them this.

And for all she knew the door would still be there, she could always come back. 

The night ends once Ahsoka finds herself full again, chocolate tart heavy on her tongue. Not Padme rubs her back head tail as she walks her back with not-Anakin and the other Rex. It feels more like an ending to a fulfilling night rather than a goodbye.

When they reach her room, only Anakin and Padme follow her in, tucking her into bed before Ahsoka could try to push the thing aside and access the door. Her eyelids tugged as the blankets-softer than her single scratchy one on her bunk- were tucked around her by the man who may or may not be her older brother.

The mother swept a gentle hand across her cheek, a finger dipping down the length of her nose, pulling the girl's eyes into a close. Ahsoka falls asleep before she can crawl back into the little door, although if the scratchy blanket hugging her skin meant anything the next morning, it didn’t matter.

* * *

The girl frowned at the rations in front of her, the scraps nothing compared to the dinner she had last night. Anakin knocks gently against her shoulder, rousing her to speak.

“I had a dream and let me tell you the food was much better,” her fork clinked against the bowl, and Anakin rolled his eyes in a laugh.

“I’m sure it was, but you still gotta eat,” 

She groans but downs the rest of her food, wondering if she should talk to him about the door in her room, and the seemingly new Mortis. Except she remembers the fallout of that adventure, Anakin had been miserable; an overprotective frazzled mess.  The togruta thinks better of it, following her master to the room they’d constructed into the perfect place for training. Blue and green clash in tandem, sweat pouring from their skin, and Ahsoka’s limbs burn with strain.

It’s ruined when his comm beeps and he alone is asked to go off, it happens from time to time but Ahsoka still finds herself upset when he goes off on his own.

* * *

The door opens under her fingertips, the crystalline tunnel calling to her once again. Ahsoka has nothing else to do, no Anakin or even Rex to keep her company. She continued through, finding herself in the other Resolute.

She knew it was the other Resolute since there was no scratchy blanket on her cot, rather there was the same fluffy blankets and a patchwork tooka of herself from the night before.  She doesn’t run into the others when she passes through the ship's walls either, nor does she find the mother when she reaches the castle. What she does find is cupcakes, a note, and a new outfit.

It’s a similar make to her usual outfit, there’s royal blue where there was normally red, and for the midnight black leggings the decals were stars rather than diamonds. Even her choker had a star instead, and her boots were matching in color.

_ “A friend is waiting for you at the temple - Love Mother” _ the card reads in an elegant cursive.

Intrigued, Ahsoka finds herself walking on instinct. Finding the room in the castle she knows is hers, the togruta changes quickly. Admiring her outfit in the ornate mirror, the togruta took in the upholstery of the furniture, and eyed the blanket with a thread count of what she could only guess was something outrageous like a million.

Deciding whoever this mysterious friend was more important than her sheets, Ahsoka meets a familiar and not bird at the end of the steps. The black convor tilts its head, urging her to follow, leading her way to the temple where her not grandmaster waits with black eyes and a loving smile.

“I made tea, I was thinking we could drink it in the room of a thousand fountains,” courteously he offers his arm, which she takes easily. Noticing how the temple was exactly the same, except in some way it wasn’t as oppressive. A side effect of war perhaps.

“That sounds nice,” she hums, her head leaning against his shoulder, knowing this Obi-Wan wouldn’t say a thing. Her chest stutters with an amused huff, smiling ruefully as they pass through the halls. She hadn’t truly looked at the art lining the walls in a long time, they stop now and again now, Obi-Wan gesturing towards the little things she passed over in her excitement.

Ahsoka was aware this wasn’t her Obi-Wan but she hadn’t spoken with the real Master Kenobi in such a long time. Let alone go and drink tea with him one on one. She appreciated the moments they had together, especially when more often than not he was overworked with war plans and ringed around the eyes with fatigue. 

“I like this one in particular,” in front of them is a crystalline and marble statue that’s supposedly one of the angels from Diathim. If she’s honest the figure looks a little bit like his former lover Satine. 

“It’s beautiful,” 

Not Obi-Wan gives a gentle nod and their walk continues, the rushing downpour of water signifies their arrival, they walk deep into the foliage, the stars and luminescent plants the only sources of light until they reach the picnic Master Kenobi had set up with flickering candles and steaming tea.

“I missed spending time with you,” the girl admitted, forgetting herself and her surroundings. Sipping her tea sagely, only because she unconsciously mirrored his posture.

His smile is melancholy, their pain seemingly shared, so much so it is easy to dismiss the unusual color of his eyes, “I’ve missed these moments of ours as well little one.” A barrage of emptiness barrels through her, she can’t stop herself from moving forward and embracing Obi-Wan in a hug.

He hugs her like it’s the first and last time they’ll ever hug again. Then again, she can’t think of when she’s ever hugged the man. She’d always been too afraid too, he’d always been so-untouchable. Larger than life even. 

The fear isn’t there now, not as the mahogany scent of her grandmaster fills her nostrils and his arms tethered her to him nice and tight.

Ahsoka wanted this damn war to end.

* * *

Obi-Wan waves her down the steps before he tucks his hands into his sleeves, Anakin and Padme are waiting at the bottom of the steps, smiling up at her as they lean into one another's sides.

“You have fun dear?” Mother asked kindly, wrapping her arm around the girl so she was situated between the two of them as they sidled back to the castle. Ahsoka leaned peacefully into their embrace.

“Yeah! Master Kenobi showed me some of the constellations and told me about his favorite pieces of art,” She rambled, laughing and hugging the two now that she knew she could.

The Abeloth knew then now was the time, the time to invigorate the girls powers so there’d be no other choice than to stay, not that she felt the girl would decline. The togurta seemed so happy and content now, especially now that she knew her wants wouldn’t be denied.

“I’m so glad,” 

“That’s great snips,”

“Mother,” Ahsoka felt it was easier to call her that rather than Padme, even though the word was still odd in her mouth, “Does the portal open in the daytime? Because I was thinking I could come after breakfast. Anakin won’t be back for a while and...well I was figuring I could come during the day.”

Not Padme smiled, a soft nod dipping her head, “You know you don’t have to go home?”

Ahsoka’s brow furrowed in confusion at that, “But when I went to bed that night, I woke up back home,” 

“Only because you wanted to,” Ahsoka doesn’t know it’s a lie so she accepts it all the same. She guessed that made some sense, not that she was thinking too hard about it.

“Now before you go to bed, I have a special gift for you. My daughter.” Anakin shakes her shoulder excitedly at the information. He doesn’t follow them in, waving them off with a smile.  They don’t head inside either, rather she leads the girl towards the very arena Anakin had held the Son and Daughter in place. 

“Go stand in the middle dear,” Mother encouraged softly, giving her shoulder a push. Ahsoka didn’t wait any longer, keeping with momentum until she found her way into the middle.

The second she was in place, the floor lit in an array not unfamiliar to her. It’d done the same for Anakin. Except, she has nothing to tame or control nor can she move. Her body lifts into the air, her arms fanning out without any of her own accord.

Her back arched, jaw dropping, body glowing with the power jumping from the depths and pushing into her chest. Beams of blinding light shot through the girls mouth and eyes as the latent power of the daughter came forth, a pair of griffon wings sprouting from the girls back.

The fangs of the son enlarged her own, his dead powers reborn within before her eyes stung and mirrored the eyes of the father and the mother. Black where there should be white while her ocean iris’s remained the same.

Slowly she was lowered to the ground, gasping for breath before toppling to her side. The added weight to her back throwing off her balance and the torrent of the force within stealing her from consciousness. 

Mortis finally had it’s keeper and the Abeloth had her daughter. 

* * *

The togura wakes in her room in the castle, laying on her stomach rather than back, her wings spread out, effectively keeping her down. Her vision is blurred and her mouth aches on account of her excessively grown canines.

Ahsoka whines, shivering when a hand brushes over her back head tail in comfort. Mother smiles apologetically at her, at least Ahsoka thinks so, “It’s alright. I know it’s a lot darling but it’ll pass. Ahsoka Tano, the keeper of Mortis. The ruler of the world between worlds, my daughter.”

Ahsoka falls back asleep less than peacefully.

* * *

The minute Anakin get’s back to the Resolute he’s hoping to eat and talk to Ahsoka. Normally she’s the best source of comfort and normalcy he has but when he steps into the mess, there is no striped montralled head among the sea of clones.

“You seen Ahsoka?” he asks the nearest clone, one who hasn’t found a name for himself yet.

“No sir,” the man answers easily, back ramrod straight. Anakin’s brow furrows, maybe she’d slept in? Pushing throughout the force, the chosen one’s heart skips a beat when her signature doesn’t come forth on the Resolute at all.

“Rex I need a log now, of everything from when we left and by the time we got back. Shuttles, escape pods, everything,” Anakin demands causing Rex to drop the tray he’d been holding.

“Yes sir,” the clone runs off, and Anakin finds himself darting to her quarters. The door opens with a hiss, the sight immediately setting him edge. The bed was slanted, unscrewed from the ground, the screws loose on the dresser.

Another maintenance door is on the wall, welded shut. Trying again, Anakin searches far, pleading for an answer and making sure she hadn’t gotten herself stuck like she had in the boiler room. There was nothing there.

_ The radiator. _

Anakin sprints, the exhaustion from his trip long since forgotten. If she’d died between the walls he’d lose his mind. The heat burns his shoulder as he squeezes through, breaking into the space between the wall, that door welded shut too. But Ahsoka isn’t there, and that bird she’d mentioned hadn’t shown up either.

Anakin doesn’t care about the second degree burns marring his shoulder, not when his padawan was missing. Rex eyes the injury wearily when he steps in, data pad in hand.

“The last footage we have of the commander is her going off to her room after you two were finished sparring,” It’d been four days and she hadn’t left her room? 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Anakin almost shouts, frustration digging straight through him, “She was here! She couldn’t have just disappeared.”

“We can try opening the door again,” Rex suggests, and Anakin ignites his saber without question. Seconds away from slashing straight through the wall and potentially jeopardizing the very mechanics of the ship.

“Sir-” Rex cautions, watching as his generals shoulders dropped, seemingly realizing the same thing.

“You open this one, I’ll open the one in her room,” and with that he was off. The new information startled the clone, he hadn’t known there was also a door in the little one's room but it did potentially explain why they hadn’t seen her leave her quarters on the surveillance cameras.

Like last time the little door leads the clone to nothing more than steel, that and a lone black feather and several chipped remnants of luminescent crystals. When the clone turns back around in the crowded space, there is something there that hadn’t been there before.

A patched doll in his armor, blue Jaig eyes filled in with black. Then the world disappeared around the commander completely.

* * *

There’s a headache forming behind the general's eyes, skull spintering, seemingly dust on the inside of his head. Raining onto the backs of his eyes and irritating him further. Her door gives an excruciating hiss that smothers his eardrums making him the slightest bit woozy.

Kicking the bed further away, Anakin is forced to stop in his tracks at the little doll sitting before the door, a jagged piece of pink felt acting as the scar over his eye. He never gets to open the door.

* * *

There is no hand petting her when she wakes this time, but there are two new presences on her bed. Beside her little ‘soka is a little Rex and a little Anakin. Turning her head with some effort, she can see on the settee a little Obi-Wan positioned against a tea tray still steaming.

She’d done push-ups on account of her training, was no stranger to heavy lifting or working with her arms at all on account of her sabers. But even her muscles strain as she touches down onto the mattress, pushing herself up and away from the warmth and the weight begging her to stay down. 

The goddess fails not once but twice before she manages to sit up, curled on top of her legs, having to lean forward since the wings were pulling her back and making her balance teeter.

Reaching across herself, Ahsoka caresses the alabaster wing sprouting from her back. Nothing hurts anymore, she’s not even sore and her teeth although longer and sharper than before don’t scratch at her lips. 

Running her tongue across the backs of her lips and the inside of her mouth, she can feel the skin is the slightest bit tougher, as if she’d evolved to accommodate her new features. She likely had. Her shoulders seemed an inch wider as well.

Her eyes no longer burned. She’d always had extraordinary eyesight on account of her predatory species, but now she could see far beyond even what her eyes could usually see, as if she could zoom in and out if her mind demanded it. She wondered how they did in the dark.  Knowing she couldn’t stay in bed forever, Ahsoka pulled in a breath knowing if she didn't she would eventually fall victim to panic.

“I am one with the force and force is with me,” the saying provides enough comfort to ignite the urge to act. She does so by flexing her back and subsequently watching- _feeling_ how her wings moved in turn.  Small twitches, an almost flap, then she adds her brain to the equation. Commanding her body in a way she never commanded before, it felt almost as if she were learning to walk again.

It’s an arduous task, a workout really as she picks up strength to fan them out and then curl them back in. It almost feels as if someone is standing behind her, it’s not the most pleasant feeling but she’s sure in time it will become something of a comfort. 

Her legs are falling asleep, this is what has her moving, scooting to the end of the bed before touching down. Almost immediately falling back onto her bed, the bend of her knees saving her.

Her arms still shake as she gets to her feet again, she really was learning how to walk again. A new center of gravity throwing her off, she’d always liked the burn of training, it always signifying an accomplishment to be proud of.  Ahsoka figures she will have to apply the same principle lest she falls into madness. Having been tricked, basically kidnapped, and her body modified was a lot to take in for anyone, especially when she’d been filled with a power similar to her masters.

Her hands tremble in the slightest as she reaches towards the cooling tea causing Obi-Doll to fall, downing the drink quickly to gather some energy before turning towards the mirror. The eyes looking back at her positively mortifying.  She knows them. Knows the wings on her back, knows the elongated fangs resting in her mouth. Blinking back tears, Ahsoka turns her cheek, caught staring out of the window. To her planet, her realm, her domain.

It would seem she was the keeper of Mortis whether she liked it or not. This much was evident. The open air billows the curtains in a gust of wind, one that displaces her feathers and has the shock in her head rattling.

How did they teach birds to fly?

_ Jump. _

She’d leaped from crazier things, knew she could catch herself, knew for certain she couldn’t possibly die. Not by something that wasn’t the dagger. The teen wasn’t sure if she could get hurt, she had felt pain, but that had been a result of her transformation. There was no telling if something as simple as a free fall’s abrupt landing could break her bones or crack her skull.

There is new resistance when she runs, her arms pushing her further up from the window’s railing before her legs hike themselves up so as not to trip her into a summersault. 

Her brows pinch once she knows she’s clear of the building, body falling faster than it’d ever before, all up until instinct took over and her mind and body worked in tandem to spread out the monstrous wings and bounce her back towards the sky with a flap that displaced the trees and their leaves. The triumphant laugh that breeches her lips startles her, she didn’t think she could possibly find any happiness in her situation, especially so soon.

But flight proved her wrong, especially when it came at the beat of her own wings. Ones that kept her afloat without many flaps at all. The tears that break through her laughter are melancholy as her body twists and she spins, cocooning herself in white so she could fall and unfurl when the force let her know she was coming in too close to the ground before she shot up again.

“Wooo!” The chant is instinctual until her eyes focus in on the stars above, ones she could make out even in the daylight before a broken and wrecked sob tore through her. The togruta soars, ascending villainously, wings pumping so viciously she can no longer hear as she makes to touch the stars. To go home. To find her family. Oxygen be damned, she didn’t know if she even needed it nor did she care.

Her back spasms from the effort, slowing her ascension, her fingers brushing stardust and the dark frozen vastness she longed for before falling from the sky. Stomach in her throat as her tears flew up into the abyss for her, creating new stars and constellations written in a destiny she did not know she had. One that had been forged suddenly without remorse. A destiny she could not change. 

The air whips at her body, wings slowing the fall as gravity pulls them apart so they could act as her parachute. The ground steadily approaches, and there's a kick in the force, another pushing off ground, arms wrapping around her and leading her to land on her feet.

Mother looks at her with a dazzled expression, “Your work is beautiful,” the woman smiles, and Ahsoka brokenly looks up at her new constellations, “What shall you call them?”

Ahsoka stares hard at her tears, forming a pattern that she can’t make out into anything at all until something clicks, “Destiny,” the stars spattered in an image interlocking diamonds shine.

“It looks good snips,” a voice calls from behind, Anakin smiling with a twinkle in his black eyes.

“The wings are fitting too Sir,” Rex speaks up, coming up behind her master.

“Destiny has never been more beautiful,” Obi-Wan’s voice startles her, causing her to turn. A hopeless yet resigned smile lighting her face at the compliment.

“Thank you,” she whispers, while the Abeloth smiles contently from behind, knowing she’d won. 

**Author's Note:**

> Snap: allisonw1122  
> Tumblr/twitter: webtrinsic1122  
> Insta:Webtrinsic


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